Through Tangled Veins
by Dropkicking Bullet Shells
Summary: Dean knew he would regret that night as soon as Castiel left. Songfic AU Destiel


**A/N-** My first, and not my last, Supernatural fic, though this might be my one and only songfic... Who knows... *shrug*  
The song is In My Veins by Andrew Belle

**Plot-** Dean knew he would regret that night as soon as Castiel left. Songfic AU Destiel

**Disclaimer-** I do not own Supernatural, only the occasional OC that may or may not show up.

**Warnings-** language

**Pairings-** Destiel

XxxX

"Once you make a false step, a hundred lifetimes cannot redeem it."  
_unknown_

XxxX

**Through Tangled Veins-**

_Nothing goes as planned_

Dean was late. Very late. That's why Catiel went looking for him.

He knows where he is, it's not too hard to guess. Lisa's having a party and Dean was invited and he wouldn't give that up for Cas. He wouldn't give that up for the world.

Castiel only wishes that Dean had been man enough to call him, to tell him know their date was off instead of leaving him waiting on his porch like a homesick pup. It's hard to get Cas angry, and he's not angry. He's not. He's just frustrated with Dean.

The house is just as crowded as Cas knew it would be and people are filing in, rocking to the music and flailing stupidly to the beat. He thinks the whole thing is childish and immature but he doesn't tell anyone that on his way in, not when they're shooting him such vicious glares.

Castiel feels small when he enters the house, but that's not new to him. He's been through middle school and high school and he's been going to college for almost four years now. People don't like him, that's not going to change.

Dean likes him. Not the Dean that's drunkenly hanging across the couch and lingering on every word his peers tell him. Not the Dean Castiel finds in that house, during that party.

That makes Cas feel a little sick, because the Dean that likes him, the Dean that he trusts, wouldn't be listening to what Lisa and her group of defiant juveniles are babbling off to him. He wouldn't be taking it seriously. He would be shooting off his cocky comments and maybe breaking a couple of jaws because, hey, why not.

Lisa is asking Dean what he sees in 'that freak' when Castiel wonders into the living room. He's not sure whether he wants Dean to see him or not but it's not really something he has under his own control because there are too many things, too many people keeping Dean's gaze away from where he entered.

Lisa has pretty, painted lips. Cas can see how Dean finds them distracting. He understands. He knows it's supposed to hurt a little and it does.

Dean's words are slurred, tipsy and drunk and on their own terms. They slosh from behind his teeth in a clamoring, dizzy way and Castiel wants to rush to his side and tell him not to answer because he knows who 'that freak' is and he doesn't want to hear the answer. "Who, Cas?"

"Yeah, Cas." Lisa doesn't sound nearly as drunk, but her face is twisted up in something mean and Cas sort of hopes she isn't sober because no one in their right minds should look that mean.

"Wha' do I see in 'im?" Dean's having trouble keeping statements and questions in their correct categories and his words are almost lost under indistinguishable waves of alcohol.

"Yeah."

"He's a good guy." Dean doesn't look like he wants to take that back yet and Cas is thankful. "He's different."

"A freak." some kid sneers in the background.

"Sometimes bein' a freak is a good thing." Dean shuffles until he's sitting up and facing the row of angry, shameful people and there's a look on his face that tells Cas that Dean isn't even sure why he's here, trying to impress these people. Maybe it's for Lisa's pretty lips.

"It's never a good thing." Lisa informs Dean as if that was common knowledge, she smiles like she had just made that man smarter. Cas wants to make Lisa smarter, in a completely pacifistic way, of course.

Dean's not as clever and quick minded as he usually is and instead of coming back with something snarky he asks "Why not?" with crinkled eyebrows and a curious hundred yard stare.

"Because." and yeah, that's a simple, stupid answer, but Dean seems to take it in, to think about it.

"Wouldn't it be so boring if everyone was the same, though?" Dean's question leaves Lisa's lips parted and empty and Castiel takes that moment to step forward, through the parting waves, and up to the couch. He squats down, getting to Dean's eye level comfortably and ignores the quiet murmuring and hateful whispers.

"Dean, it's time to get you home." Dean's eyes widened once they focus and really see him. Cas can tell he's about to stumble out excuses and he just doesn't want to hear them because he's not mad, and he's not hurting and he just wants to get out of this house and away from Lisa and her lips.

Dean doesn't budge when Cas reaches out for his hand and tries to tug him towards the exit. He edges into the crowds 'boo's and the 'please stay, Dean' and Lisa's 'don't let that freak tell you what to do'. Cas feels his heart stutter in his chest when Dean looks just as confused as he feels.

"Dean, let's go." Cas' voice is just as rough, as tough as it always is, as it should be. He's thankful for that now, and not so much about what Dean said earlier.

Lisa's crowd is chanting, but they aren't trying to convince some kid to drink all of his brain cells to death, they're talking to Dean, demanding he stay. Dean's never been good with peer pressure. He likes being the king and with a whole room of the campus' prettiest girls and most handsome boys cooing his name he sort of feels like royalty.

"I wanna stay, Cas!" Dean lays back against the couch and throws his arms over the back like a black leather throne. The mosh pit of cheers that go out to that is deafening.

Cas doesn't want Dean to stay. He wants to take Dean home, away from these troublesome kids and their bad habits and sickining attitudes and maybe go on the date Cas has been excited about for the last two weeks. Dinner, maybe a picnic, and a movie. That was the plan.

"Dean," Cas doesn't really mean for his tone to be as sharp as it is, but Dean's expression changes to something rueful when he hears it.

"You can go home now, Cas," Dean says, "I'll find my own way home when I'm ready."

A chorus of freak and loser force him out of the room, out of the house, and it doesn't hurt, not really. It stings a little that Dean's drunken laughter is the only response the crowd gets in return, though.

_Everything will break_

When Sam saw some guy, tall and muscular, pushing Castiel out of Lisa's house, dumping him in a puddle of mud that still lingered from the storm the night before, he stepped in. He pushed over to the man's side and watched as Cas shot a look of betrayal at the house's walls, like they had caused him his humiliation. Sam snaked a hand around Cas' arm and helped him steady out his feet.

He already knew why Cas was there, he had predicted that he would come. He would have done the same in his friend's position because it had been just cruel of Dean to ditch Cas on a date without a word.

"Are you alright?" Sam tried to brush some of the mud off of Cas' trench coat, out of his dress shirt and tie, but it was futile. Sam's fingers and palm were painted brown with a natural water color paint.

"I'm fine." Sam knew Cas wasn't fine, even though his voice was still sturdy and his eyes were closed off and because no one would be fine after that. He helped Cas out of the shallow water, his shoes flopping and soaked through and through. Sam felt a little guilty for being dry and for not convincing Dean to not be a dick.

"I'm sorry about Dean," Sam itched the back of his neck, "I tried to talk to him but he was pretty smashed when I found him here."

Underneath all of the stoicism Sam could tell Cas was a little bit broken, even if it was college boyfriend broken. Sam hated Dean in that moment like it was a bad taste in his mouth because just days ago Dean had confessed to Sam in secret that Cas might be the one and that he would do anything for their relationship.

Castiel and Dean had known each other for just over a year and had been dating for a year on the dot and Cas didn't deserve to feel so belittled just because Dean was suffering from a mental breakdown because he just realized that real love was scary.

It's sad watching Cas stumble pathetically to his car, his shoulders slumped, his pace slow and hurt. Sam catches him by the hand, letting his fingers oddly intertwine with Cas'. It's not as clean and perfect as when Dean and Cas hold hands, it's not all flawless ridges and every nook and cranny matching and filling each other, all the way down to their finger prints like two puzzle pieces. It's not at all like watching Dean and Cas hold hands.

Pe_ople say goodbye in their own special way_

"He didn't mean it." Sam doesn't really want to be the one to defend Dean when he's being such an ass, but he knows he will have plenty of argument for Cas later on when he's bickering with his brother, but Cas just needs to know that Dean didn't really mean it.

"I know." and, of course Cas does because he's known Dean for awhile now and Cas knows all about Dean's bullshit. He understands and that's a load off Sam's shoulders. "Goodbye, Sam."

Cas always greets and farewells formally, so it's not all that odd for him to say a full out 'goodbye' instead of just a 'see ya' or a 'later' or even just wander off because neither of them have anything to add to their conversation, but this time it seems almost final and that scares Sam a little.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Sam has to ask because if those are the last words he says to Cas he will regret it forever, "We can get back at Dean in the morning when he has a hangover and he's weak." Sam laughs a little but it sounds forced and awkward.

Cas doesn't seem to pick up on the desperation in Sam's tone because he's slow like that. He nods his head very directly and slips into his car. His key makes a metallic click when it meets the slot and the engine purrs to life with a bit of a choke when it's twisted correctly.

"I will see you tomorrow, then." Cas says when he rolls down his window and Sam sighs in relief and gives his best grin.

_All that you rely on and all that you could fake will leave you in the morning,_

Sam isn't too happy with Dean when he's forced to man handle his way back into the house and he's faced with laughter and nothing is even funny. Dean looks mighty proud of himself and the crowd is just egging him on.

It's not unusual for Sam to want to strangle his older brother, but the urge is rather potent in that moment.

Sam knows that deep down Dean is feeling regret because he knows Dean better than anyone. The clouded look in his eyes isn't just from his booze and the smile on his lips is dying out like an ancient star.

The alcohol is screwing with Dean's judgment and he holds up his beer bottle like a trophy, letting it glint in the rooms light before jolting it upside down and gulping up its contents. It takes all of Dean, and Sam's, self control not to vomit.

Lisa sets herself comfortably on Dean's lap as if, as soon as Cas left, Dean belonged to her and Dean's not her property so Sam feels a little bitter and a little more angry. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and holds her there and Sam wants to wrap his fingers around his brother's throat and end him and his stupid decisions. Sam's pretty pacifistic, though and he would hate to make a scene, so he doesn't. Not yet.

_but find you in the day_

It was almost like waking up from a coma because his limbs are heavy and sluggish and he knows he's done something idiotic to get himself in this mess, but Dean immediately recognizes that that is not Cas on his lap, or Cas digging his hips into his side.

Lisa's got that smile on her lips like she's won something and it sort of makes his day that picking her up and tossing her to the side gets rid of it. Her lips twitch around into an ugly snarl and she's got something bitting to say but Dean beats her to the punch with a shake of his arm in a 'talk to the hand' motion and a sneer of his own.

His mind is kicking into overdrive and shooting adrenaline laced blood through his system like heroine, telling his muscles to wake up, pay attention and to fix his many mistakes and just the ones he's made in the last hour were suffocating. Dean sobers up quickly because seeing Lisa straddle him is a 'fuck you' alarm clock that's almost as bad as the look of hurt Cas shot him as he was leaving a few minutes before. Dean is just possessing that and it's doing anything but wonders for his twisting and churning gut.

He feels nauseous.

He heads out but people keep snaking their filthy fingers into his shirt and holding him back with pleas for him to come back but Dean can see Sam's disapproving eyes glaring little slits at him from across the room and he knows he too far up shit creek.

He finds a paddle in the form of his cell phone as his feet touch down at the bottom of the porch. His baby, his car, is parked about a block up and he's happy to settle down into his driver's seat as he flips through his contacts.

Cas' name lights up and the bottom of Dean's belly is warmed with something homely and scared because the more time passes the more he gets his bearings and the better he remembers.

Dean's such a dick at times and he knows it. He knows it well. It's the only thing making him hesitate on hitting the little, green call button and dumping an apology on Cas' shoulders.

Dean thinks Cas deserves better.

_Oh, you're in my veins, and I cannot get you out._

Cas' phone rings while he's driving and it takes a bit of awkward maneuvering, but he's able to fetch his cell out of his pocket and keep his car moving in a straight line. Dean's name is flashing on the caller idea and Cas isn't sure if he wants to answer it.

Dean customized his ringtone on Cas' phone so he knows who it is before he actually looks, but that didn't stop him from being doubtful. He can hear himself sigh over the wheels turning on the road and the hum of the engine, his voice is a little raw and scratchy as his fingers move to flip his phone open. The ringing stops and Dean's voice replaces it.

"Cas?" Cas knows Dean's sorry just by his tone. He relaxes a little and he's uncertain why.

"What is it, Dean." he doesn't feel too inclined to just forgive him, though.

"I acted like a douche." Dean sighs and Cas can almost see the other carding a hand through his hair. It's quiet on the other end. Too quiet for there to be a party in the background.

"You're not with Lisa." Cas states thoughtfully as he lets his eyes drift to follow the road. It's dark and the high beams on his car are on and just barely cutting through the darkness. There are trees lining the roads, their old, naked arms stretching out to brush the paint of his car, the long winding road blocked in places by nature.

"Lisa?" Dean laughs like he knows he's in trouble, "Why would I be with her?"

"Her lips." Cas says, "She has nice hips too. She's pretty and smart and though she may not have a very nice personality I imagine she is very pleasant in bed."

Dean laughs for real and it trails off in a chuckle, "I don't want to be with Lisa or her sex skills."

"What about her lips?"

"I don't want to be with her lips, either, Cas." Cas can almost see Dean rubbing down his face and massaging the bridge of his nose with a lopsided grin on his face. Dean's used to Cas.

"What made you change your mind?"

_Oh, you're all I taste, at night inside of my mouth._

"I missed you." Dean answers.

"You realized you weren't acting normally." It's Cas' way of saying 'you were acting like a dick.' and Dean accepts that.

"I wasn't, I'm sorry."

"You didn't pick me up for our date." Dean glances at his phone and he feels bad because he doesn't know how to respond to that. "You told me that our one year anniversary was supposed to be important."

Cas really had no idea how to date someone when Dean had got his hands on him. Dean really did have to teach him what to do and how to feel. Dean feels like such an ass.

"I'm sorry."

_Oh, you run away, 'cause I am not what you found._

Cas is quiet for awhile, his fingers taping nervously against the steering wheel as he drives. It's late and it's been a long day and he just wants to go home, change into something comfortable and sleep. He sort of whishes that he could curl up beside Dean on his bed and let their feet brush together under the covers but he doesn't have enough gull to ask.

"Do you want to talk about this tomorrow?" Cas would rather talk face to face and see emotions flutter on and away from Dean and over the phone things are always lost in miscommunication. He wants to keep talking to Dean, wants to see him tonight, right in this second but he doesn't say so. He waits for Dean to answer.

"Yeah, tomorrow's good."

_Oh, you're in my veins, and I cannot get you out._

Dean wishes he had told Cas he loves him before he hangs up, but he clicked his phone shut before he let the words tumble out and he finds himself saying it to no one. He wishes he heard Cas say it to him, too.

Dean drops his phone into a cup holder and leans into his car's seat, the feel of this familiarity comforts him in a way that he wishes Cas would.

He tells himself he's stupid and that he's fucked everything up and he will dies alone and that he's hurt Cas and there's no way of making it up to him. It doesn't make him feel any better.

He just wants to call Cas back.

_No I cannot get you out_

Cas flips his phone closed when he's sure Dean's hung up and sets it down on the seat beside his. He's already forgiven Dean because that's just how he is. He doesn't want to stay mad at him, and there's really nothing to be angry about.

Staying mad would only make things tense and if Dean ever decided that he was much more trouble than he was worth, well, Cas wouldn't know what to do with himself.

Cas isn't sure he can live without Dean. Dean's shown him how to live.

He feels a slight pain in his chest when he thinks about loosing him and his throat's a little tight at the idea. He can't wait for tomorrow, when they can talk everything out and Dean can make it up to him like he always does.

Castiel does not see the other car coming.

_Everything is dark_

Cas wakes up gasping for breath and in a state of shock because it's too hot and too cold all at the same time. He smells smoke and burned rubber and he's sure he can hear fire crackling somewhere off in the distance.

His car doesn't look the same as it did seconds or minutes before. Everything's crunched up like wrinkled paper or broken into unrecognizable pieces and the road's no longer splayed out in front of him.

There's a tree and a couple of bushes and another, larger truck that doesn't look like it's taken as much damage, and it's dark. Cas brushes his fingers out and tries to turn on the car's brights on again and they flicker for a moment but they don't stay lit.

His right hand is mangled in broken glass and blood and his head hurts too much to piece together what that means, but he's sure his forefinger's not supposed to bend that way. His left hand isn't so bad, he uses it to brush the strands of his matted hair out of his eyes and it comes back stained crimson.

He can see a little better when he turns on the overhead light, and he blinks the fog out of his vision and focuses on what he has to come to terms with once he's bathing in the tiny, artificial light.

Cas can't move his right leg. It's crushed between two plates of metal and when he pulls at it pain shoots through him and his whole body goes rigid. His other leg is fairing better, but without it's twin, his left foot wont be able to move much further.

It hurts to breath. Whenever his chest shifts, when he inhales, he aches. He can feel a heavy throbbing running up from his spine and the pain is pooling as a loud beat in his skull that moves slow and faint like his heart beat.

The dizziness and the numbness are keeping the pain away and that's the only reason he's hasn't passed out. If he could feel the pole, long and thin, impaling him just above his hip he wouldn't be so calm. It must have been something that had dislodged from the other truck and flown, at an angle, through the windshield.

It was cold to the touch.

_It's more than you can take_

Cas doesn't have enough room, momentum or energy to panic or squirm and his whole body just hurts like a bad bruise.

He knows he's in a bad situation, there's no convincing himself other wise. It would be really hard not to be able to grasp the severity of everything when the shock is wearing off and his head is getting more and more lightweight despite his heavy injuries.

Cas can feel a steady trail of blood slipping down his face, inches away from his eye, and it tickles. He wants to wipe it away, but he can't.

_But you catch a glimpse of sunlight_

Cas hears his phone ringing and in the darkness the face of it lights up the carpet flooring in the foot space for the passenger seat. It's Dean's song, their song, and it's something cheesy and still to Dean's likings. Some old rock love tune.

Dean's name is flashing on the screen and Cas can just barely read it through his haze. He blinks a bit and his eyes sting.

_Shining down on your face._

His body yanks on its own, towards the phone and his fingers stretch out and his back arches sideways and he can just barely touch the edge of his cell but then his body spasms and the pole in his gut lurches and he can't tell if he screamed out.

His sight goes white for a second and the only reason Cas isn't convinced that he's just died is that he can still feel that pain.

He strobed his eyelids until he can see again and his gaze rests somewhere just in front of his truck where he sees a lump, the other driver, and he looks very still. He's laying in a puddle and in the lighting Cas can't tell if it's just water or not.

Castiel tries to call out, to ask him is he's alright, but his voice doesn't come out. He squeaks a little and slams his jaw closed as his muscles have another fit.

It isn't fair.

It's not.

Cas feels scared, just a little.

He can't feel his fingertips of his toes anymore.

He can't feel the one drip of blood traveling down his cheek like a stray tear.

Cas thinks of Dean and he can't feel anything but sorry because that shouldn't have ended the way it is. He hopes Dean can forgive him. He wants to see Dean.

His phone's music starts up again and it's more painful to Cas to know that he can't reach Dean when he's so close than to know the reason why.

Cas is not sure why, but he's not scared anymore.

_Oh, you're in my veins, and I cannot get you out._

Dean gets a call at three of four in the morning and he never really has the chance to actually confirm the time. He can't really get a grip on his surroundings and he's not sure what the caller said or who the caller actually is, but he remembers his breath catching and the next thing he knows, he's in the hospital and yelling at everyone and he doesn't know why.

Dean knows Cas never picked up. He knows that Cas never would have been out on that street if it weren't for him and he knows that this is all his fault, but he doesn't understand what 'this' is and why his brain keeps repeating all of this like a broken record.

_Oh, you're all I taste, at night inside of my mouth._

Only, it's not just his brain that's saying it, it's Gabriel too. He's shouting, his mouth fizzing and his eyes rabid and cold and vicious and Dean knows that if Cas' father wasn't there holding him back Gabriel would have ripped him to shreds.

Cas' older brother wont stop hissing at him the whole time they're in the waiting room and he's saying things like 'if you hadn't abandoned my baby brother' and 'it's because of you that he was there' and Gabriel's parents aren't saying or doing anything because Dean's sure they're thinking the same thing.

Cas is in emergency surgery, Sam tells him, and it's not looking good.

_Oh, you run away, cause I am not what you found_

The doctor comes bearing a clipboard and news and they ask for direct family and when Dean stands with the rest of the Novaks he's shot glares and threats and he's pushed back and he's told to stay far, far away.

Gabriel and his parents are pulled to the other part of the room and Dean's dad is at Dean's side because there's no one else and he's got this tough grip on his shoulders and for a minute, Dean wants to pretend it will keep him grounded, because for a minute, it makes him feel secure.

Dean can hear Cas' mom sob from across the room and his father break and Gabriel drop like a bag of rocks.

_Oh, you're in my veins, and I cannot get you out_

Dean knows how it all ended immediately and he feels like the world had a grip around his throat and wasn't letting go. He's too cold and he cannot breathe and he doesn't register sitting down or Sam beside him,

_No, I cannot get you out._

or Sam forcing his head between his knees,

_No, I cannot get you out._

but he recalls the breathlessness and that feeling, like his whole world had just come to an end.

_Oh no, I cannot get you..._

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**A/N-** Please tell me what you think... Thanks for reading


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